Morris carefully opened the letter sent from afar with a letter opener.

On the envelope, the stamps one after another and the stamp representing "purified" silently told him about an extremely long journey of wandering.

With the slight sound of the paper unfolding, lines of beautiful and neat handwriting appeared in front of Morris, and it was indeed the handwriting of his good friend that he was familiar with:

To my good friends and academic partners:

It seems like several years have passed since we last contacted each other. This alienation is really wrong. I feel that these years have been muddleheaded and busy, and it seems that I have always been doing some meaningless things. It was only recently that I suddenly realized that I wasted my time...

... Many wonderful things have happened recently. I am sorry that it is difficult for me to describe to you some changes in my life in words... Frost is an incredible place. It is not only a cold and long winter, but also many things worthy of our serious study...

Do you still remember the topic we discussed last time, about some ancient legends in the frozen sea of ​​the far north? These topics have come into my mind again recently, and I suddenly feel that I seem to have grasped some key points that can help us sort out many unresolved issues in the original discussion, such as whether there have ever been city-states in the frozen sea, and the origin of many mysterious customs in the Frost...

Frost is really an incredible place, my friend, my mind is becoming more and more aware of this. There are many mysterious pasts in this cold sea that are worth exploring. I plan to meet some respected people in the fields of history and folklore, and I have plans to visit Cold Harbor in the near future, but most importantly, I want to invite you to be my guest here...

We haven't met for many years, Morris. You said you don't like the cold air in the north, but I think you will like the warm fireplace in my house and my collection of fine wine. Think about it carefully. We can discuss those fascinating secrets again by the warm fire. Believe me, Frost is indeed an incredible place...

Don't you want to come and see this incredible frost city...

Your most trusted friend and academic partner

Brown Scott

December 2, 1900

Written at 42 Fireplace Street

Morris's eyes silently swept over the last line of the letter, and then he remained silent for a long time.

It was not until several minutes later that he muttered, as if talking to himself, "It's his handwriting, and the discussions he mentioned did happen."

"Today is December 17th, and this letter was sent half a month ago," his wife said beside him, with a hint of uneasiness in her voice. "Considering the distance between Frost and Plande, this is a normal time."

"Yes, the time and postmark are normal, but what's abnormal is that the writer died several years ago," Morris said slowly. "I still remember the day I received the obituary - it was also a letter from Frost, written by one of his favorite students. The student said in the letter that her teacher had unfortunately fallen into the sea while sailing to Cold Harbor, and the body could not be salvaged."

"...I don't remember this incident. It happened during those years when I was in a daze." His wife came over and held Morris' hand. "We should report this to the church. The content and wording of this letter seem normal, but it is also disturbing when you look into it."

Morris held his wife's hand and exhaled softly: "Of course, it should be reported to the church... but not just to the church."

※※※

On the Lost Hometown, in the captain's cabin, Duncan rested his hands on the navigation table, concentrating on looking at the misty nautical chart and the route that gradually extended out on the chart.

The phantom representing the Lost Homeland is moving slowly in the center of the nautical chart, and the thick fog surrounding the Lost Homeland is gradually dissipating as the ship moves forward. At one end of this route, one can see the city-state of Plande, which has been temporarily left behind, and in the mist outside the route, one can vaguely see another faintly glowing bright spot.

Duncan's eyes fell on the bright spot.

That was the Sea Mist.

Ever since the last "Plague and Nuclear Twilight" exchange of fire, the mark of the Sea Mist has appeared on this nautical chart.

In Duncan's own perception, he could also roughly sense the current direction of the Sea Mist and even the general condition of the ship.

This perception was vague, but it did not seem to weaken as the distance between the Lost Homeland and the Sea Mist increased.

Obviously, just like those "marked ones" who had been contaminated by the spiritual flames, the Sea Mist, which was hit by shells from the Lost Homeland, also established a connection with itself.

However, this is only a "connection" after all, not a complete control like the Lost Hometown, so the Sea Fog can only show a bright spot on the nautical chart, and it cannot disperse the fog covering the route.

"Are you deciding on the next course?" The voice of the goat-head suddenly came from the edge of the navigation table. "Then I have about one hundred and forty very useful suggestions. I can..."

"No, you can't," Duncan interrupted very skillfully before the other party started to pressure, "No need for any advice, I have my own plan."

The goat head shook its head, as if it wanted to say something else, but before it opened its mouth, footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, and then the door of the captain's room was opened from the outside, and Alice walked in.

Then the puppet lady was stunned for a moment, and without waiting for Duncan to speak, she quickly turned around, closed the door, and knocked on it.

"...You don't need to knock if you're already here. You should knock before opening the door." Duncan looked at the other person expressionlessly, "Is everything cleaned up over there?"

"Yeah," Alice nodded immediately, "The shelves on the first floor have been tidied, the counters and stairs have been wiped, and the kitchen has been cleaned up too!"

"Yeah," Duncan responded casually, "where's Ai?"

"After dropping me off, she went to the kitchen," said Alice, "and flew away yelling about Thursday and all that...."

"It's quite free and easy," Duncan smiled and shook his head. Then he suddenly noticed that Alice's neck seemed to be stuck when she nodded. He frowned subconsciously, "Why does it feel weird when you turn your neck... The glue in the joints hasn't been cleaned out yet?"

When Alice heard this, she shook her head left and right, and her neck felt noticeably stuck and sluggish.

"It seems... a little bit," Miss Doll seemed a little embarrassed, "It feels clogged."

Duncan's eyes twitched, and he looked at the puppet helplessly. The puppet held his head with his hands, and after a long while he let out his signature laugh: "Hehe..."

"Stop laughing," Duncan sighed. "Come here, I'll help you clean it up. If you don't clean the residual glue, it will further damage your joints. And I see that you are nodding with a lot of clacking, which is really uncomfortable."

"oh."

Alice immediately walked over obediently, and when she reached Duncan, she grabbed her head and shook it left and right, then pulled it out with a "pop".

The headless puppet held his own head in his hands: "Ship...ship...Captain, this is for you."

A vague feeling of weirdness inevitably came to his mind, but Duncan still reached out to take Alice's head, and took out a scraper, a brush and a soft cloth from the small drawer under the nautical table. He sighed and began to study the situation inside the joints of this stupid guy.

He couldn't help feeling a little emotional.

I was able to face these strange scenes so calmly and even participate in them naturally.

Human beings’ ability to adapt is truly amazing.

Picking up the scraper, Duncan gently scraped away the remaining glue marks in the joints that were no longer so stable. He raised his eyelids and glanced at Alice's face.

Silver hair spread out on the navigation table, and the doll blinked its eyes and met his.

It's really beautiful, with an exquisite and perfect face. Even in the most weird circumstances, it seems that people can ignore the weirdness and can't help but admire the beauty in their hearts.

But unfortunately, this guy's humor was too extreme, so while Duncan admired her beauty, he was more regretful in his heart that she had a mouth...

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?"

"No, no, no, it's just a little bit itchy, but very...very mild." Alice stammered.

Then she became quiet, and even the goat head next to her magically became quiet. The only sounds in the room were the slight friction of the scraper and the gentle sound of the waves coming from outside the window.

After an unknown amount of time, Alice suddenly opened her mouth again.

She stammered, with a hint of hesitation and a rare sense of loss in her tone: "Captain, am I very, very stupid?"

Duncan's movements suddenly stopped.

He was surprised that the puppet had such self-awareness and insight.

But then he just shook his head expressionlessly: "Why are you suddenly feeling this?"

"I, I, I always fail to learn what you teach me, and I always mess things up and waste your time."

Duncan was silent for a moment, then raised the scraper in his hand again.

"I don't think you're wasting my time," he said calmly, "Besides, you're a bit stupid."

“Yes, it’s like this.”

"But it's nothing. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Everyone is just a little bit 'stupid' in the areas they are not good at. You may just be a little bit weaker in more areas." Duncan glanced into Alice's eyes. "Do you care about this?"

"I, I, I don't know. I haven't thought about it, but I'm worried that it will delay, delay, delay your affairs..."

"Then put away these useless worries and continue to live happily," Duncan shook his head. "If you encounter something you can't learn, then learn it a few more times."

"Then, then, will you teach me a few more times?"

"…if I have time."

Alice blinked, as if thinking for a moment, and then slowly smiled.

"hey-hey……"

Hearing this signature laugh, Duncan couldn't help but laugh a little, then picked up a brush and soft cloth to clean up the dried glue debris that had been scraped off.

At this moment, a distant but clear calling voice suddenly appeared in his mind.

That was Morris's voice.